


Random Happenstance

by GoddessofBirth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessofBirth/pseuds/GoddessofBirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben threw back the whiskey and then slammed the tumbler down, letting the old, familiar burn run down his throat.  He nodded to the bartender and slid the glass across to him.  'Another one,' he said, his anger and frustration at a hunt gone just this side of sour bleeding into his voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Random Happenstance

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this is actually a future fic in another verse I'm working on, but it can be read as a standalone. If you catch the crossovers in it from my other stuff, you win internet cookies.

 

 

 

Ben threw back the whiskey and then slammed the tumbler down, letting the old, familiar burn run down his throat. He nodded to the bartender and slid the glass across to him. 'Another one,' he said, his anger and frustration at a hunt gone just this side of sour bleeding into his voice.

 

The thing should have been a cakewalk. It was just a small vamps' nest; three newborns at the most – he'd considered not even dialing down the Metallica screaming through his earbuds for it. First vamp hadn't even seen him coming, and he'd been closing in on the second when the shit had hit the fan. Apparently a couple of other hunters had caught the vamps scent, and the idiots had stumbled in at exactly the wrong time. Again, nothing he or they should have had a problem with, but for some reason, the second they saw him, one of them – a blonde guy who was way too old for the coolness of the AC/DC shirt he had on – had frozen stiff, and almost gotten his head taken off by the third vamp, coming in from the darkness.

 

Luckily, his partner, a dark headed dude in a _trenchcoat_ of all things – did he think he was some kind of flasher in a bad 80s porno? - hadn't paused, just pulled a long, thin knife from somewhere and sliced the monster's head off in one clean cut. But the whole thing had distracted Ben, and he'd lost his bead on the second vamp, along with the element of surprise, and _then_ it had turned out the three newborns had just been a trap for the much bigger, much older nest they were trolling for, and within seconds the three of them were fighting back to back for their lives.

 

Alright, so maybe he couldn't blame the entire mess on the asshats who had interrupted him, and he had to admit they were good – not as good as him, of course, but who was these days? - but on top of the crappy week he'd had, the whole thing just pissed him off; when they'd decapitated the last snarling, bitch faced vamp, he'd barely stuck around for introductions before hopping in his Thunderbird and peeling out, making some excuse for turning down the drink they'd offered to buy him. Besides, it creeped him out the way blondie kept staring at him, like he knew him from somewhere. For a split second, when they'd first blundered in, Ben had almost thought he'd recognized him, too, but once the dust and blood had cleared, he realized he didn't know him from jackshit.

 

Still, it set his teeth tingling in a bad way, so he wasn't sticking around for a meet and greet.

 

'Well, look who's here, Cas. Guess we can buy him that beer, after all.'

 

Ben took care to drain the last bit of his refill before setting it carefully down and swiveling the stool to the right. Blondie was leaned against the bar next to him, a fake as hell “just happy to be here” smile on his face, while trenchcoat hovered next to him, a lost, sort of concerned look on his.

 

Ben got right to the point. 'Did you assholes follow me?'

 

Blonde dude's eyebrows shot up. 'Whoa! Assholes? Strong words for the guys who saved your ass back there.'

 

' _Saved_ my ass? Your screw up almost got me killed! I was  _fine_ before you two butted in.'

 

Trenchcoat –  _Cas_ – tugged on his partner's arm. 'Dean.'

 

That's right...Dean. Dean  _Winchester_ . Every hunter alive had heard the legend of the Winchester boys – gone head to head with Heaven and Hell and stopped the apocalypse. Everybody had heard it, but, funny thing about legends...nobody alive could claim to have ever met them. So Ben wasn't quite sure if he bought that this was who the guy really was. Which would, of course, make trenchcoat that fallen angel who had just about undone all the work the Hunters had accomplished. Ben watched as Dean brushed Cas's fingers with his.

 

'It's fine, featherhead. I'm okay.' Despite the nickname, it was the odd sort of softening around the corner of Winchester's eyes that made things click for Ben.  _Oh_ . So it was like  _that_ for the two of them. It wasn't that it weirded him out, exactly. He was as forward thinking as the next guy who'd dropped out of high school in the eleventh grade; it was just that you didn't really see many – okay,  _any_ – gay hunters, and every story he'd ever heard about the Winchesters had included their way with the ladies. Guess that was just another place the stories had gotten it wrong.

 

'Hey, look.' Winchester interrupted his thoughts, 'since we're all here, why don't you let us go ahead and buy you that drink. In fact, let's get a pitcher and grab a corner table. We're not headed anywhere tonight, and if the amount you've already drank is any indication, you shouldn't either.'

 

Ben was about to tell them to go fuck themselves, when Cas reached around Winchester and put his hand on Ben's shoulder. 'Please.'

 

Ben wasn't sure if it was the sad, almost pleading look in the older man's eyes, or  _fuck_ maybe he  _had_ had too much to drink, but the next thing he knew, he was sitting at a table, his back firmly to the wall. A waitress in a too short skirt and a too tight top, leaned over to put a pitcher of beer between the three of them, winking as she showed off her ample cleavage. He rolled his eyes. As if.

 

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, just took steady sips, all except for Winchester, who downed half his mug in one swallow.

 

'So.' Dean leaned back in his seat and balanced the chair on two legs. 'You're pretty young to be out hunting, don't you think?'

 

Cas rubbed his temples as Ben made a rude noise. 'No. I'm twenty five. And I was way older than you when I started, if any of the stories are true.'

 

'Don't believe everything you hear, kid.' Winchester scrubbed a hand over his hair and reached out to refill his glass. As his hand closed over the pitcher handle, he shot a look at Cas, and whatever he saw there made him sigh and sit back, his mug still only half full. 'So, how old  _were_ you?'

 

'When I got into the life? Sixteen.' He shut his mouth hard on the statement, hoping he was sending loud enough  _back off_ vibes that they would know it would be in their best interests not to pry.

 

Winchester just nodded, although Ben thought he saw Cas reach under the table, maybe to put a hand on Dean's knee. He was about to call them out on whatever it was that was making them jumpy, when Castiel finally spoke.

 

'You shouldn't hunt alone. It's not safe. We often hunt with Sam and Jackie, especially for nests that large.'

 

'Please. That was a nothing hunt. Probably could have done it with my eyes shut. But if it makes you feel better, I don't usually go alone. I hunt with my girl.'

 

Winchester grinned wide and punched Cas in the shoulder. 'He's got a girl. How about that.'

 

'Right...' Ben drew out doubtfully, and then shook his head. 'Anyway, yeah, Claire would usually be with me, but her mom's having some kind of midlife crisis or something and so she flew...down...to...' he trailed off when he realized both men were staring at him, wide eyed and horrified.

 

'What?'

 

'Your girlfriend's name is Claire?' Dean's voice had gone urgent.

 

'Uh, yeah. That's what I said. Claire Novak. Why? You heard of us?' The two of them  _had_ started to make a bit of a name for themselves. He'd have to tell Claire. She'd like that.

 

'Dammit, Cas!' For some reason Winchester had rounded on the smaller man and was hissing in a low, angry tone. 'You  _promised_ him. Said they'd be  _safe_ .'

 

If Ben had thought Dean had looked angry, Cas's face and voice made him want to take a step back. He'd apparently misjudged him as the more passive of the two. 'And  _I_ rebelled so  _your species_ could exercise  _free will_ . That means you all get to make your own choices. Even them.'

 

'Sorry to interrupt your lovers' spat.' Ben ignored the ugly look Dean shot him. 'But what the hell are you two talking about? Promised who? What?'

 

And just like that, their faces went completely blank. Dean shrugged innocently. 'Nothing. Totally unrelated argument. Don't worry about it. So, Claire's visiting her mom, huh? How come you didn't go along?'

 

Ben let his questions drop for now. He hadn't forgotten what Derriel had taught him about interrogation.  _Give them some information, give them some rope, and before you know it, they'll be singing and hanging themselves._ 'Her mom...she's not my biggest fan.' Not since Ben had busted Claire out of that mental hospital when he'd been seventeen, on his first solo demon hunt. He'd barely managed to grab her before the demon had minced her, and they'd been together pretty much since. She'd been locked down for years, medicated so far up the wazoo that she barely remembered anything from before her mom had admitted her. God, she was one hell of a hunter, though. It was like sometimes she just  _knew_ when things were evil.

 

'Moms, huh?' Winchester snorted while Cas's smile was merely painful. 'What can you do. How about you? Where's your mom?' Ben didn't miss the way Dean was suddenly pinpointing him like a hawk, and he had that weird sense of  _de ja vu_ again. Maybe he  _had_ met Winchester before. He racked his brain but still came up empty.

 

'She's dead.' he said flatly, and signaled the waitress. 'How 'bout a round of shots, since none of us are driving anywhere?'

 

'Sure...sure.' The two other men exchanged glances and then Dean nodded to him. 'I'm sorry about your mom. She must have been pretty young. Car accident?'

 

'Demon.'

 

Winchester reared back like Ben had punched him in the jaw. 'You're kidding.'

 

Ben shrugged carelessly, far too used to pushing the boiling anger and grief down, to let any of it show. He grabbed the shots from the waitress's tray and passed them around, throwing his back before the other two could catch up. 'We all got into this job somehow, right?'

 

'Yeah...' A sick parody of a grin slashed across Winchester's face, right before he threw the whiskey back, and Ben remembered his own mother had been a demon victim. 'Right.'

 

The conversation drifted after that, to previous hunts, and techniques, and the usual boasting that every hunter engaged in, the gradual comfort well lubricated by repeated rounds of shots, and pitchers of beer. Nothing too personal, though; Winchester never mentioned Sam again, and Ben didn't go into his childhood or how he and Claire had met. Hours passed, and Ben watched as even Cas eventually unwound, his smile suddenly breaking through as he told joke after joke that neither Ben nor Dean really got. After every one he would laugh, look at the both of them, pout a little and then mutter  _It's funnier in Enochian_ , before starting the whole thing over again.

 

It was only when Winchester and Cas started actually getting handsy with each other, that Ben managed to flag down the waitress. He was proud of his accomplishment, especially since she had somehow doubled during the night. Dean slapped his hand when he tried to pay the bill, and handed a credit card to the woman. Business end done, Ben somehow was victorious in herding the two of them out the bar and toward the rundown motel across the street.

 

'Come on, you two, don't...don't make me hav'ta bail you out for pub...public indecency.'

 

Cas snickered as he held his arms out to his side and spun in a wide circle. 'Dean is always indecent, public or private.' Then he sobered and dropped his arms, only to tilt his head and stare seriously at Winchester. 'Dean, does this mean I need to learn about child rearing?'

 

Winchester's eyes widened and he swung his arm out drunkenly to catch the smaller man in a headlock, giving him a noogie. 'Shut up, featherhead. You're drunk.'

 

Cas's voice was muffled, but not enough that Ben couldn't – regrettably – hear his next words. 'But you like the things I do when I'm drunk.'

 

Dean leered dirtily. 'Hell, yeah, I do.'

 

They had drifted to a stop beside the men's car, a sweet, _sweet_ little classic Impala, and Ben, definitely not wasted enough to hear that kind of talk, fished around in the front pocket of Dean's flannel shirt until he came up with their key. 'Alright, old timers...take it inside. You're corrupting the youth.'

 

He swayed a little as he said it, ruining a bit of the effect, but Dean grinned and then clapped him on the shoulder. 'You're a good kid, Ben. I'd give anything if this wasn't your life.'

 

'That's just because you're embarrassed I could kick your ass, old man.'

 

'Yeah...we'll see...' Dean was walking backward as Cas pulled him toward their room. 'Maybe we'll see you around, kid.'

 

Ben nodded. 'Yeah, maybe.'

 

He waited until their door had closed before spinning on his heel and hurrying to his own room. He dead bolted the door behind him and re-salted the windows and threshold, and then, eyes suddenly alert and sober, he pulled his cell phone out and dialed. The phone rang two times before Claire picked up.

 

_'What's going on? Everything okay?'_

 

'Yeah, babe, it's good. Listen, how fast can you get out here? Something weird's goin' on; I need you to help me figure it out.'

 

* * * * * * * * * *


End file.
